Choices
by Flame Rebirth
Summary: Draco has been running from the past for two years now…takes place after his 7th year, after the final battle. Which side did he choose? and why? Draco death fic. And who kills him?-REDONE-


A.N.: Okay, It's 11:22 PM, and I just read a handful of angst fics! YAY! 

So, here I go with my share. I hope you enjoy. 

~~

_And I'm young and I'm hopeless_

_Lost and unnoticed_

_I'm going nowhere fast,_

_That's what they say._

                As I ran, and the tears mixed with my sweat as it ran down my face, I stumbled, falling again, into the mossy ground. 

                "Why get up, I'll just fall again. It'll all end soon. I'll just let it catch up to me…" I hear the figure looming slowly closer. I close my eyes, as the last of my tears fall down my pale face. I mutter my last prayer, praying for a quick death, and for my spirit not to be sent to purgatory, burning in the pits of hell, with my father.

                Father. That's why I am here, on the ground awaiting my death. He was the one, who betrayed me, left me. Left me alone, to die. All the suffering, all the weeping, in but two year's time…

~~2 years ago…~~

                "Draco." Father called, turning his leather chair to me, "Now that you have proven your worth to the Dark Lord, it's time. Make me proud, son." He stood up and rested a pale hand on my shoulder.

                That was all Father had to tell me for me to understand. I smirked at him, and nodded. " I will Father." I turned and walked back into my room, preparing myself for the unavoidable. Every wizard and witch knew this time would come, though they did not know when. 

                I knew when. I knew, it was coming soon. Very soon. And to make Father proud, I had to pretend to be a regular. A regular student.

                Summer ended, and another year began. I attended classes as usual and played Quidditch as I always did. I spent that last year as I always did, until one night.

                I was sitting in front of the Slytherin fireplace late one night, thinking about my decision of becoming a death eater. It was from father, to please him, so I always thought that was a credible reason. But when I really think about it, there was much more at sake than I realized. My whole entire life was at stake. Am I really willing to put all that on the line? Why would I want to be ruled by a mudblood? So many questions raced through my head,  and I clenched my head in agony. _Why me? Why the bloody hell me!_

                As if the Dark lord was answering me, the dark mark began burning, encircling my arm. I winced, and opened a window nearby. 

                There, in the foggy night, stood dozens upon dozens of death eaters lined up outside of the school grounds, waiting for the battle to begin.

                "It's time…"

                I walked out of the common room, with the hood of my cloak over my face. I walked to the oaken doors, as the rest of the students ran from it. I was but moments away from opening to doors to join my father, when someone called my name.

                "Malfoy."

                I turned to see my head of house, Professor Snape, standing a good foot away from me.

                "Professor." I nodded, acknowledging his presence.

                "So, you've made your decision." Snape said, never looking me in the eye, "Are…are you sure, about this? This is your's to decide. Not your fathers."

                "You don't have control over me. I can do whatever I please." I averted my gaze to a nearby painting.

                Professor Snape nodded, "I know. But, please don't make the same mistake I have done. I know, you know what is right. Listen to that voice, what does it say?"

                I sighed. He was talking in riddles again. Not until much later, did I realize he was speaking of my conscience.  I've read once, your conscience tells one the correct path to go…I must have lost that conscience long ago, because I never heard anything. Or maybe, I just didn't want to.

                Professor Snape began to talk again. "You're to young to die, Draco. You have…your whole life ahead of you. Don't, waste it." I could tell Snape was struggling to keep his emotions secured, "…Don't waste it like I once did!" 

                I was growing with rage. "Young, am I?" I faced the only man that actually, truly cared for my well-being, "I am old enough! I am not some young, hopeless kid! I will make my father proud, I will make the Malfoy name known!"

                "Make your father proud? And how long will that last? A day? A week, maybe? Draco! Listen to yourself--" I refused to listen, I growled, "I hate you! Leave me alone!" I screamed as I ran out of the castle, leaving Snape, the only person who cared for me, forever.

                I joined my Father, just as the final Battle began. 

                I slaughtered many, without even a flinch, without a second thought. All to make my father proud. 

                I was captured and tortured by the Light Side, about 5 months after the Battle began. I waited in that cell, waiting for my father to rescue me. For him to stop the pain.

                He never came.

                They pestered me with questions on the whereabouts of Voldermort, and my father. I refused to tell them anything. They eventually put me under a strong truth potion, forcing me to tell them. They captured my father and Voldermort. The Light side won. They finally won. They won, and it was all my fault.

                Father was sent to Azkaban, and Voldermort died in a ferocious battle against the infamous, Harry Potter. Harry was praised, along with his friends; and I was being hunted down with the rest of the Death Eaters.

                A few months passed, when I got the news. Father found out I told the Aurors of his whereabouts, which didn't make him to proud of me. As a result, he. Disowned me. He announced that he. He didn't want a rat for a son. He said--he said it stained the Malfoy name.

                How much I hated that name. _Malfoy__.___

~~~

                And I still hate that name, till my death, I'll continue to despise it.

                As I lie on the moist ground, I come to realize that Professor Snape was right. I am too young. Too hopeless, too lost in this world we call life. My life, my whole life I lived to please father and I end up being disowned by him. 

                I cringed again, and bit my lip, imprisoning my cries.  My sobs escaped, and I was engulfed again by my tears. I've given up.

                "Get up." a voice suddenly said behind me. I turned my head to the figure. _That voice…so familiar_. 

                "Get up, Malfoy." 

                "Who…are you?" I ask, for the figure's face was covered by its hood.

                "You; don't remember, do you?"

                "No, sorry I don't."

                "Then you need not know." The figure said, "It is of no importance now. I'm an Auror now, and I'm too…rid of you. You know this, don't you."

                "Yea, I know." I stagger up, quickly wiping my tears away, "Well, go ahead. I won't use my wand."

                The figure was silent, as if deciding whether to accept the offer. It then shook it's head. "Take your wand out."

                I cocked my head and took my wand out. "There," I dropped my wand on the ground, "there, now I can't counter your attack."

                "No," the figure said, "pick it up. Battle till your death."

                I sighed. I figured I might as well die honorably. I leaned down and picked my wand up, wiping it clean with my robe.

                "Let's duel, shall we?" I nodded, and we both walked forward, meeting in the middle of the clearing.

                "Scared, Malfoy?" The figure asked.

                I laughed. "What do you think?"

                The figure nodded, and we both walked back, and readied our wands. 

                The figure attacked first, a jet of vibrant yellow flying towards me. I countered it with a simple defense spell, and attacked it with my own. I don't remember the attacks I used. I used the first spell that came to mind, until the figure stopped its attacks, and transformed it's wand into a golden sword.

                I smirked, "So this is it." I brought my wand up, and transformed it into my own sword. 

                "You never change." The figure smiled, and jumped up. I watched it, and backed up. 

                It stabbed it's sword at the exact place I was just moments ago, and as it regained its composure, the figure ran at me. I defended myself with my sword, blocking his attack from slicing me in two. I was struggling to keep its sword away, and I could see the figure was having a difficult time too.  I began to push the figure away, when, as sudden as life itself, I heard it.

                My conscience. 

                It said…this was the correct thing to do, to die now. That I didn't need to worry, I was heading to a better place. 

                I nodded, and smiled slightly.

                "I know I don't know who you are, though you seem familiar. But, once I die, don't let me be forgotten. I was mean, I know that now. I probably treated you wrongly sometimes. But don't forget…me, whoever you are."

                "I won't." the figure said, "I promise you that."

                "…and, figure? If you know who professor Snape is, could you tell him, for me…that I didn't mean, what I said 2 years ago? And, tell him thank you for me. Can you do that for me; please?" My vision was beginning to blur from the unshed tears of 2 years ago.

                The figure didn't respond right away. When it did, it said, "Don't worry Malfoy. I'll make sure he knows."

                I smirked and nodded. I dropped my sword, which made the figures sword  slip and puncture through my chest.  The figure was alarmed. It wasn't expecting that.

                "What--Malfoy!" The figure jumped back, watching my body fall to the ground. 

                "Draco!" The figure ran up to me, I was covered with sweat and blood. "You're too young to die, Draco…you have your whole life ahead of you…Don't Die Now!"

                I lifted my hand, blood dripping between my fingers onto the already blood-soaked ground. 

                "I will be…in a better place now. My life sucked anyway." I choked up, trying to laugh, but coughed up my blood instead. 

                "Draco! You can change your life! You can have a second chance to start over!" The figure grasped my hand, squeezing it hard, "Hold on…"

                I couldn't hold on. I had to let go. 

                So I did.

 I left the world that damp summer day, in an unknown forest, soaked in my blood.

                I was finally at peace.

**-Fin**


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